Page 83 of Duke of Pride

“I would never!” he protested lightly.

They exchanged the cigar and brandy again, and this time it stung and burned less. Why was her soul more at peace with him, alone, than with anyone else?

She took a small sip of brandy and pinned him with a serious look.

“Why did you come tonight?” she asked.

The playful glint in Stephen’s eyes dimmed. He set the cigar aside, the embers fading to a dull glow. For a long moment, he simply looked at her,reallylooked at her, as if trying to memorize every detail.

“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”

Victoria inhaled sharply. It was such a loaded question. It was riddled with so much emotion, so much pain. Pain they had caused each other.

One more sip.

“I am afraid I must return to my initial assumption. Weareridiculous.”

“I, too, must insist, My Lady. I am being poetic.”

“Ah, the Duke, melancholically gazing at the moon. Toocliché.”

“Clichés serve their purpose,” he said. “Thoughwewere never one.”

Victoria exhaled at that. “Cliché? Certainly not. Disastrous? Certainly yes.”

He chuckled, low and rich, the sound curling around her like the smoke between them. “How about we settle for exquisitely complicated?”

“Truer words were never spoken,” she said and handed him the brandy.

She watched, mesmerized by the way his throat worked as he swallowed. A drop lingered at the corner of his mouth, and she fought the absurd, traitorous urge to reach out and brush it away with her thumb. He beat her to it when his tongue flicked out, catching that stray drop, and her thoughts scattered like ash in the wind.

Only one thought remained—she was going away.

She might never see him again. She was going across the sea for who knew how long? And he was here, warm and real and so devastatingly handsome. This might be the last time they could ever be like this.

Before she could second-guess herself, Victoria closed the distance between them in one decisive step. Her hands found the lapels of his coat, her fingers twisting into the fine fabric as she pulled him down to her. Stephen’s breath hitched, just once, and then her lips met his.

She felt the brandy and the cigar on his lips—dizzying, intoxicating. She tasted his desperation and her anger, their passion and all the words they’d left unsaid. They didn’t have to talk; they rarely did.

His hands came up to cradle her face, his touch searing, as if he feared she might vanish if he held her any less fiercely. His fingers tangled in her hair as he backed her up against the balustrade.

He broke the kiss but didn’t let go, didn’t pull back. He just looked at her, making sure it was real—making sureshewas real. He leaned in painfully slow and let his teeth graze her lower lip in a way that made her gasp.

She had scarcely caught her breath before his mouth descended on hers once more. He kissed like a man famished, as if nourishment had been denied to him for too long. Then, the kiss turned slow, yet not in a shy, attentive way. Not a gentlemanly peck. It was now deep and wet, the strokes of their tongues making decadent sounds that simply urged them on.

And she kissed him back with everything she had. She kissed him like it was the first time. Like it was the last time.

It is the last time.

That thought made her lips more frantic, her hands more daring. She, too, searched for her nourishment, the one thing to sustain her. She rose on her tiptoes, her spine arched in surrender. Her thighs brushed his, her knees nearly buckling as she leaned even more into his molten, fierce kiss.

I want you. I will miss you. I love you.

When they broke the kiss to catch their breath, he didn’t let go. The hand behind her neck kept her forehead pressed to his, and the one around her waist kept her dangerously close. He breathed unevenly, his chest a riot of emotions.

Victoria tried one small step back, to let some air, some sense, between them. Some herald to the distance that would soon separate them. But he wouldn’t have it. He cradled her face, their breaths mingling, her body so close to his that it felt as if they were one.

“Victoria,” he whispered.

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